First Impressions
by Shauds02
Summary: Dick isn't mad that Bruce has taken in a new kid, he's mad that he found out Bruce has taken in a new kid from a freaking newspaper, and now the whole situation is a lot more awkward than it needed to be.


Dick finds out about it from a newspaper, and not even from a newspaper **he** was reading, but one that Vic was trying to shield from Beastboy's attempts to get at the comic strips before he's finished with the sports section. If Dick hadn't been leaving the training room at just the right moment, hadn't turned his head to see what his friends were doing on his way to the fridge **just** then, he never would have seen it.

An article sitting innocuously in a neat little box with a title that read: "_HAS BRUCE WAYNE'S SORDID PAST CAUGHT UP WITH HIM"?._

And even then, Dick just looks in on it because things have been quiet recently and he thinks he'll find, maybe a picture of a drunken teenaged Bruce falling off a yacht that he can laugh at. He most definitely **does not** expect to find that Bruce has been embroiled in a 'secret' custody battle over an illegitimate child, or that the media in Gotham has been having a feast day over it over the past few weeks, and all the while Dick has been completely oblivious in New York.

So he does the only reasonable thing he can think of right at this moment; he calls up Wally, and within half an hour he's stomping up the manor's ridiculously long driveway, newspaper in hand to confront Bruce about the whole thing.

He's already planned everything out, what he's going to say to Alfred to get in, what he's going to say to Bruce depends very heavily on what Bruce says to him first, but Dick is reasonably sure he's thought out all the most likely responses, and that he's ready for them by the time he rings the doorbell.

Then the oversized mahogany doors swing open and it isn't Alfred standing on the other side. It isn't Bruce either. It takes a couple seconds of staring at the empty space that **is** on the other side before Dick thinks to look down at the tiny squinty eyed kid blinking blearily up at him. The paper said twelve, but this kid doesn't look twelve, he looks at most nine, ten if Dick's feeling generous. Dick hasn't planned anything to say to the kid.

"Master Jason as I've said bef… oh dear." Alfred's appearance behind the boy is the best thing that's happened to Dick all week. "Master Dick, well this is certainly a pleasant surprise. You've come to acquaint yourself with young Master Jason, I assume?"

"Uh," Dick looks down at the kid whose expression still hasn't changed. "Uh yeah, sure." He tries for a smile, but there's a very high chance that it comes across as more of a grimace.

"I see, then you have come at a rather inopportune time, as he's is, or rather he **was**," here Alfred turns his attention back onto the boy, "readying himself for his first day of school?"

At this the boy's eyes widen and he lets out a soft, high pitched noise before rushing past Alfred up the nearest staircase, dragging, is that an **axe**after him? Dick leans in past the doorway to get a better look, but the boy's already gone. Alfred wears a soft smile as he watches the retreat, a smile that widens a little when he turns back to Dick.

"Since you have taken the time to pay us a visit, you'll allow me to set you a seat for breakfast?"

And Dick can't find it in himself to say that he's only come to maybe yell at Bruce. "Sure." Dick grins back and hooks his thumbs in his jean pockets. He had skipped out on breakfast back at the tower and passing it up now would just be rude, rude and very unnecessary.

Alfred nods in approval and closes the door behind Dick. "Perhaps you will succeed where I have failed and convince young Master Jason that his dog does not require additional feeding at the table.

Bruce isn't here; he went right from patrol to Wayne tower, making the whole, awkward experience for nothing.

Breakfast doesn't go much better, in Dick's opinion, than the meeting at the door had. The boy's not much of a conversationist, and Dick's debating the pros and cons of awkward silences vs. awkward conversations while he gets his first clear-headed look at Bruce's new… son? Not that he thinks that part of the stories is true, it's just… well the boy **does** sort of look like Bruce, but sometimes Dick looks sort of like Bruce too…

Grey eyes, dark hair that's been tamed from the mess of curls he'd had at the door. Casual clothes, so he's not going to Gotham Academy then? And the axe. The axe is gone too. Why would a kid have that? Bruce wouldn't be training him with that, would he? It's too big for such a tiny child to lift, wouldn't he have gotten a smaller one. Dick wants to ask, but he looks at the boy again, sees him 'sneak' a bit of bacon under the table with about as much steal as… as any normal kid.

Maybe he's not being trained at all, maybe he doesn't even know about Bruce's nightlife, maybe Bruce isn't even planning on letting him in on that at all. He'd tried to keep Dick out of it too.

"So," Dick scoops up a spoonful of scrambled eggs, keeping busy while he thinks of a less offensive way to ask the kid just where the heck he came from and what he knows. "Bruce hasn't gotten around to telling me much about you yet? Did someone leave you on the steps in a basket or what?"

The boy stalls, his hand inches from his fork, face scrunching up in what Dick's experience with kids tells him is the prelude to tears, and outside of hero-work and traumatized victims, Dick does not know how to handle either crying or tears from strangers. He almost cries himself when the expression smoothes out on its own and the boy pushes some eggs onto a piece of toast.

"Nah, I stole his tires." He says it so nonchalantly; Dick forgets to be surprised about it right away.

"I'm sorry, what?" Dick almost gives himself whiplash, looking up from the furry brown tail that's been knocking against his ankle; he never had a dog either.

"Yeah," the kid's head has vanished under the table, but he looks up, to peek at Dick when he adds, a note of smugness in his voice, "off the Batmobile."

"You're kidding." No one touches that car, even Dick is extra careful around it, a little kid wouldn't **dare**, but apparently he did, because he just shakes his head at Dick's question and goes back to his breakfast.

"Parked it in Crime Alley."

Dick sighs and pulls his hair aside. That answered the question of whether the kid knew or not at least, but now Dick's run out of questions again. He drums his fingers against the table while he finishes his breakfast as fast as humanely possible. He can always call Bruce when he gets back to the tower; it's not a big enough deal to make any kind of a scene over.

"Well, see you around." He's up and out of his seat, before he's even finished chewing his last bite. There's a few second of hesitation before he awkwardly ruffles the kid's hair in goodbye then dashes away. He makes it as far as the entranceway before Alfred pops up again.

"Leaving already Master Dick?"

"Yeah I have to…" But, Alfred looks worried, and the list of things that can actually make Alfred look worried is very short. "That is, if there isn't anything else you need first?"

**000**

When Dick asks, he's expecting that maybe there's been a breakout, or a hostage situation somewhere that Bruce needs help diffusing. What he's not expecting is being asked to drive the new kid to school, but that's what happens, and Dick is stuck driving down to Gotham in one of Bruce's less flamboyant cars.

The kid seems as comfortable with the situation as Dick is, curled around his backpack in the passenger seat and looking everywhere but at his driver.

Time for awkward conversation attempt take two.

"Starting at a new school in the middle of the year? You didn't want to go back to the old one, or was it Bruce's idea?" Dick asks, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and trying to look more laid back than he feels.

"Wasn't in school, Talia got me tutors to catch up."

"Talia al Ghul?" Even as the question leaves his lips, Dick's head is running a mantra of _'please not that Talia, please not that Talia, please…'_

The kid nods and holds his bag tighter. Damnit.

"Oh, that's…" Dick's not sure what he's going to say, but he's grateful when the kid interrupts him before he can say it.

"Yeah, listen." The kid uncurls in a move that seems painfully forced and his voice is overlaid with an accent that Dick had only caught hints of before. "Alfred's not watching anymore, an I can tell ya don't want me here, so ya don't gotta be nice to me or whatever, just drop me off here and I'll catch the bus, I won't snitch."

It's an easy out, and Dick feels like trash for the few seconds it takes him to slow the car to a stop. The kid, no, Jason, his name is Jason, doesn't hesitate, as soon as the wheels have stopped turning, he's slipped a strap of his backpack over his shoulder and opened the door. Dick reaches past him to grab the handle and pull it shut again.

"No."

"No?" Jason's scowl is warning when he looks back at Dick, but his white knuckles and the light, near indiscernible tremble running along his shoulders speak of another emotion.

Dick sighs again and rakes a hand through his hair, falling back into his seat. "Listen," He grips the steering wheel again, just to feel something under his hands. "Jason," he nods in the boys direction and almost flinches himself when see's that Jason's curled around his bag again, watching Dick very closely. "I don't want you to think I don't **like** you, it's just this whole thing… I found out barely an hour ago that I have a little brother now, from a **newspaper** and what I don't **like** is that Bruce didn't think to tell me something this important, and now it's so much more awkward than it needed to be."

Jason nods, and he doesn't seem any more likely to bolt. "It is awkward." He looks out the window and relaxes a little.

"Yeah…" Dick tapped on the steering wheel again, the only sound in the car is that and the rusting of the many leaves on the many trees along the side of the road. "But that's not the same as not liking you, okay?" He starts up the car.

"Okay." Jason releases the death grip he has on his bag, leaving it to lay in his lap instead.

"Tell you what." Dick says, pulling back onto the road. "If you like, I can pick you up after school, and we can go out for pizza or whatever, break the ice with something fun?"

"I'm not really allowed pizza." Jason says, his lips pinched in a considering frown.

"That's a yes?"

"**Yes**!" He nods seriously

Dick grins, and the hair ruffle he gives Jason when he drops him off at the school feels a little more natural than the one at the breakfast table. He's probably still going to yell at Bruce a little.


End file.
